Page 22 of Kidnapped & Bred By The BRATVA
Eight months.
That’s how long it’s been since Roman stormed into my life, stole me from the altar, and made me his.
Eight months since he told me he’d fill me with his seed and keep me pregnant forever. Eight months since he claimed me, body and soul.
And now, here I am. Exactly where he wanted me.
My belly round between us, full and heavy, stretching the cotton nightgown that barely covers me. My breasts ache, swollen and sensitive, nipples pebbled against the thin fabric. Every step I take is slower, every movement more careful, but Roman doesn’t look at me with pity.
He looks at me like I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.
Even now, when I’m restless and aching, when desire hums through my body like a constant drumbeat. Pregnancy has made me insatiable, and Roman is only too happy to oblige.
“Lie back,” he orders, guiding me to the bed. His scar is sharp in the lamplight, his gaze dark, hungry. “I’ll take care of you.”
I sink into the pillows with a groan, pressing a hand to my round stomach. “You always take care of me.”
His mouth curves, dangerous and tender at once. “I’ll never stop.”
He kneels between my thighs, spreading them gently, reverently, his hands warm against my skin. He pushes the nightgown up to bare my belly, kissing the taut curve before looking up at me.
“You’re perfect like this,” he murmurs. “Carrying my child. Full of me.”
Heat floods my cheeks, “Roman…”
He drags his mouth lower, pressing kisses over my stomach, my hips, until he’s between my thighs. The first stroke of his tongue makes me moan with anticipation and need, my head tipping back against the pillows.
“Sweet as ever,” he growls between licks, his fingers digging into my thighs. “I’ll never get enough of this pussy, Krasivy. Pregnant or not, you’ll always be mine to feast on.”
My hips buck, my breath coming in short, desperate gasps. The sensation is overwhelming, every nerve heightened, every touch amplified by the changes in my body.
His tongue circles my clit, slow and relentless, until I’m shaking, moaning his name. He doesn’t let up, doesn’t let me fall apart without him guiding me there.
“Come for me,” he demands, voice rough. “Show me how much you need me.”
He sucks hard on my clit, hooking his thick fingers inside me and the climax tears through me like a storm, my body arching, my cry breaking the silence. My thighs tremble, my belly tightens, and still, he licks me, drawing every last spasm from my body.
When he finally pulls back, his chin glistens, his eyes blazing with hunger. He rises over me, stripping off his trousers, his cock thick and hard, already slick with precum.
I reach for him, needy, whimpering. “Please—”
He lifts me, positioning me over him, straddling. He tears the cotton nightdress from my body, revealing my swollen belly, swollen tits, my darkened areola’s hooking his attention.
“Fuck, you’re the sexiest woman on this fucking planet,” he growls, lining himself up and pressing inside me slowly, carefully, until he’s buried deep. The stretch is exquisite, the fullness perfect, and I sob with relief as he grips my hips and holds me tight.
“Roman…”
“Mine,” he snarls, thrusting up against me. “You’ll never be empty, krasivy. Not while I breathe. I’ll keep you like this forever, round with my children, your body marked by me alone.”
I lean back, holding his thighs as he thrusts a little harder, making my breasts sway and his pupils blow as he watches.
“Fuck, Liv, I can’t hold back when you’re like this.”
“Then come in me,” I beg, my pussy tightening around him as he releases one of my hips to stroke my clit.
He explodes inside me, never taking his eyes from me as he pumps me full of his cum, I use what bit of energy I have left to grind down hard, the thought of him coming undone and the pressure between us enough to send me over the edge with him.
The climax takes me harder this time, a wave that crashes and drags me under. My body clenches around him, my cry loud and unashamed as I watch him lose control at the sight of me.
